Percy Jackson's Quest for a Theme Song
by Rhia of the Druma Wood
Summary: With Camp Half-Blood bursting restlessly into song, Percy, Annabeth and G-man the gangsta rappah are left with no choice to find a theme song to save the camp from the horrors of Disney songs. Can they find it before Luke does?
1. Prologue: Percy Has a Dream

**Hi everyone! You know the other fic I wrote with the song 'The Half-Blood She's Been Looking For'? Well, here's a plot development! Hope you like it. Only this part isn't in Percy's POV. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any of the songs featured in this story.**

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Percy woke up from the weirdest dream he'd ever had.

He sat bolt upright, clawing the grass madly, a horrible screech lingering in his head. Breathing hard, he looked around and let out a relieved sigh, seeing the camp in perfect shape. The lake was blue, the rocks were grey, the clouds nonexistent. He could even hear the ring of swords against shields, the whinnying of horses, the Ares cabin laughing at how he freaked out.

_Wait—HEY!_

Nevertheless, it was a great day at Camp. Percy just gave them the finger and lay back on the grass, contented that everything was normal (as it could get). Then he realized a couple of things that were very important.

_Where were Grover and Annabeth? _

"BOO!"

Percy jumped ten feet into the air, screaming like a little sissy. Grover and Annabeth were rolling on the ground with laughter when he finally calmed back down.

_Well, at least I found them._

"Hey, Seaweed Brain, great to see that you've decided to join the land of the living again," Annabeth laughed.

"Annabeth, this is serious! I just had the weirdest dream! You won't believe it! First there was Mrs. Dodds, and then she was just like, 'ooooohhhhh' and you guys were all 'doo doo doo doo' and then-"Percy stopped short. He felt a sudden tugging in his gut, but as far as he knew, there wasn't any water near here, or anything that needed watering for that reason.

"Percy?" Grover said hesitantly.

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**ooh, cliffhanger! What's wrong with Percy? Read to find out. review please!**


	2. Something's Wrong with Camp

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or any of the songs featured in this story.**

**Percy's POV**

I didn't know what got into me then, but the urge was so strong.

It's just like that time I was supposed to deliver a poem for English class but they didn't have time for me so I had to do it at break but I forgot and remembered at the end of the day but I really needed to pee and Idol was on that night and Mom and I like to watch it together and—

Okay, the point is, I don't watch High School Musical, so when Grover and I spontaneously burst into song to the tune of "You are the Music in Me" (the Sharpay version), you'd think something is wrong right?

**Percy:**

_You know we've kicked butt a million times,_

_Now we need one._

_Need a theme song. _

**Grover:**

_We'll even look for it nation wide,_

_Cuz when we find it,_

**Percy and Grover:**

_It'll never go wrong!_

**Percy:**

_Our melody_

_Will be on MTV_

**Percy and Grover:**

_On iPods going east to west_

**Percy:**

_You know it's true_

**Grover:**

_And we do too_

**Percy and Grover:**

_Cuz half-blood melodies are best!_

**Percy:**

_I don't care if it takes long,_

_We'll find our theme song,_

_Our half-blood melody._

_It's up to the three of us, _

_We'll find in because_

_It's our half-blood melo-_

Annabeth got up suddenly.

**Annabeth:**

_Melody-yyy, yyy, yeah, yeah-ah_

**Percy:**

_Oh yeah….._

I did the electric slide and went all air guitar before I realized that the population of Camp Half Blood was staring at me with wide eyes and slightly frightened looks. I was opening my mouth to explain when all of a sudden, some people exchange glances and burst into song, just like we did. I knew some of the tunes they were singing to, but the lyrics were all messed up…

_This is the start, of something wrong_

_But it feels so right, to burst into song._

And

_I gotta pee!_

_Coke here, sprite there,_

_Glasses of water and juice_

_Scattered everywhere!_

_How unfair-ai-air!_

At that, I turned to Annabeth and Grover. Something was definitely wrong with Camp.

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	3. GMan the Gangsta Rappah

**A/N: Yay! New Chapter! Enjoy, everyone! :D**

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson isn't mine, and neither are any of the songs or characters from assorted Disney musicals featured in this Fanfiction. **

**PS. I cannot rap.**

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Wow.

I've honestly never seen Camp in this much chaos before: everywhere, people were screaming, singing (or doing a combination of the two), dancing, back-flipping, and I'm even pretty sure that I saw some people making out while we were cautiously making our way to the Big House. Apparently, this was too much for Annabeth, because when a jazz-handing Beckendorf bumped into her and apologized in song, she let out a cry that sounded sorta like a strangled ostrich and half-collapsed into Grover.

"This is just too weird," she mumbled, trying to take in everything that was happening. Silena Beauregard passed by us singing something that sounded like Britney Spears.

"Maybe it'll just blow over," I said hopefully, avoiding a cart wheeling camper but successfully managing to bump into a girl who was going all Mitchie Lopez. I covered my ears as someone from the Ares cabin belted something out into a loudspeaker.

"I'm sorry, Percy, but something like this won't just blow over."

Still supporting a really pale Annabeth, Grover and I turned around to see a man framed nicely by the sunset. At first I thought it was Brad Pitt and maybe I was finally seeing things Annabeth's way, but I realized it was only Apollo. Sadly, I didn't see his awesome red Maserati anywhere, which probably meant I still had no chance of owning it. Damn.

"Lord Apollo," Annabeth greeted him. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear Percy and Grover's big opening number? Your beloved camp has been put into a state of unrest by your lack of a theme song," Apollo smiled. "It's now your job to find one."

"Quick! To Chiron's CD collection!" I cried, letting go of Annabeth and making a mad dash for the Big House. In my rush, I tripped over a rock that I swear wasn't there a minute ago.

Apollo laughed. "Oh, no, Percy, you can't just leaf through somebody's CD's and pick a song that's sing-able to."

"Why not?" I asked, standing and brushing myself off. It was a shame the rock had disappeared—I could've thrown it at the Ares campers who tried to trample me when I was down.

Apollo raised an eyebrow. "Do you think _Batman_ just tinkered with his piano to get his theme song? Do you think he just sat down and picked a song on the radio? NO!! Batman went on adventures. Stopped villains. He _did _things. Then somebody said, 'hey, I like this guy. Ladies, give the man a theme song!'" he explained. He looked at us, expecting us to understand. I didn't.

"So… You're saying… that we should…. Become superheroes?" I guessed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Annabeth hang her head in shame. Apollo on the other hand, looked appalled. He smacked his head with his hands.

"No! I'm saying you should go on a quest! For a theme song!"

"Oh… well, then, that's a little clearer. I guess we should—Hey, G-man, are you okay?" I turned to face Grover, who was looking a little confused. Annabeth stepped away from him. Apollo grinned.

"Drop me some beats, Lord Apollo!" Grover cried suddenly, facing the god. Apollo started making these absurd noises, which gradually started to sound like beat boxing. And then, the weirdest thing: Grover started rapping.

"_Yo, yo, yo, I'm G-man, the gangsta rappah!_

_I got baggy-waggy jeans and I don't wear socks_

_I be rappin' so fast it'll be hard to stop!_

_And I'm rappin' about how my Camp has gone all Camp Rock_

_You can hear them singin from down in Bangkok_

_And…. Vladivostok… YO!_

_Friki-friki-friki- _

"Respect!" Grover ended, snapping his fingers and nodding his head to Apollo's fading beat. Annabeth and I just stared at our friend-turned-gangster. The only difference between us is that I started clapping like heck.

"Whoooooo! Go Grover!" I cheered, admiring the satyr's new talent of rhyme.

"It's G-man, now," Grover said, grinning. Annabeth just stood frozen.

Slightly phased by her plight, I grabbed her wrist. Grover—or G-man—eyed her cautiously.

Apollo sighed. "We should head to the Big House now. Chiron will set you off on your quest."

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**A/N: Okay everyone, if there are any songs you'd like to see featured in this, just PM me with the title of that song (DUH!!) and one verse of that song converted to fit into Percy's Half-Blood world. I'll do the rest if I like it! And yes, I'm taking ideas for the actual theme song, which I still don't have! AAAAHHHHH! So yea, get sending, but remember, it must be Disney and you have to have fixed one verse of that song, okidoke? **

**Now, press the awesome purple button and review!! Thanks guys!**


	4. The Voice I Hear Inside My Head

**Hey everyone! Sorry I took so long to update! It was summer! LOL. But here it is anyway, the new chapter. Longest so far. There aren't any songs in this one, it's mostly action, but I hope you still enjoy it. Oh, and I actually don't know how much the first Beatles record costs, but oh well. **

**VERY IMPORTANT:**

**Okay, you all have to forgive me for being such a retard. I wrote this and didn't expect many people to like it, and now A LOT of people are wondering what the theme song is going to be!... the problem is, I don't know either!! If you have any ideas for songs for any part of the story (yea, anywhere, but I'd prefer entries for the actual camp theme song) please PM me with the title and one verse of it sort of Percified. If you can. Just the title will be great, but it'd have a greater chance of being featured in the story if you gave me something to go on (i.e., the verse made to fit the story). Thanks guys!!**

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After talking with Chiron, we left Camp early the next day… but not without a big and noisy farewell. As we stood on Half-Blood Hill, the campers were busy doing a big song and dance number to that song from the Sound of Music. Looking worriedly at them, Chiron sent us on our way. When I looked out the back window of the van we were riding in, I saw him glance wistfully at the baby dragon that guarded the fleece, which fast asleep, oblivious to what was happening. Then Camp disappeared behind another hill, leaving Annabeth, Grover and I to our perilous and arduous quest… for a theme song.

"Damn! That doesn't sound heroic at all!" I said, pounding my fist against my leg. Annabeth and Grover turned to me, startled.

"What, Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth asked, looking at me as if I'd gone insane.

I smiled nervously. "It was… um, hey, look, a magic leoplurodon!"

Grover whipped around. "Where?" he cried. Annabeth just shook her head and leaned back in her seat.

"This is going to be a long day," I heard her mumble.

We had no idea how right she was back then.

Chiron and Apollo had told us that a theme song can come from many places, so we decided to start in New York. We were going to have Argus drop us off at Central Park, but the traffic was getting pretty bad, so we just got out of the van around a cluster of little stores. One was a bridal shop with a couple of ladies talking animatedly on a couch. The other one was a bookstore, filled with titles that my dyslexia was messing up, and the one on the corner was a music store with a bunch of guitars and keyboards and a poster of that guy named Slash from Guns and Roses that you could play on Guitar Hero: Legends of Rock.

I was playing Slow Ride on my air Guitar Hero when Annabeth sighed, breaking the clueless silence. Well, not really silence, I mean, the traffic was pretty damn loud but I guess I should say 'the silence between us'.

"What now?" asked Grover, who seemed to be joining me in my air Guitar Hero solo. He was looking at the bridal shop kinda funny, and I'm sure I heard him mumbling something like "Dresses. Ugh. Cyclopes. Ugh."

"I… have no clue," Annabeth admitted, biting her lip and staring at the shops. "Maybe we should get a move on."

We had no other lead, so, you know, what the heck. We were about to round the corner opposite the music shop when all of a sudden, I hear a sort of voice floating on the wind.

"You say something Annabeth?" I wondered.

Annabeth shook her head. "No, why? What did you hear?"

"It was nothing," I lied. I recall her telling me once that hearing voices in your head was not normal. But I heard it again. And again. Louder this time. And then…

_Percy. _

I stopped walking altogether and looked around, kinda freaked. My hand was already holding Riptide in my pocket. If it was Timmy, my neglected childhood imaginary friend, I seriously wanted to have that ready.

_Percy, _the voice whispered. _Find the record. _

"Percy, what's wrong?" Annabeth asked, coming around to stand in front of me with Grover. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

I shushed her. "Annabeth, there's a voice I hear inside my head, and I think it's the reason that I'm singing. I gotta find it, so please be quiet." I held up a finger and turned around, trying to pinpoint it.

"Have you been watching Disney Channel lately?" Grover said turning around and moving in front of me again.

I ignored him and started walking in the other direction. _The record, Percy. The record, _the voice kept saying, and I remembered seeing one on display in the music store. Annabeth and Grover caught up with me in front of it, and following my line of vision, Grover read, "The Beatles: Please Please Me." He blinked. "That's their very first album!"

"Well, we need it," I said, and ducked into the shop.

It was a little dark and cluttered inside, like every place inhabited my the artistic type, but I was able to wander deep enough into the store to make out the face of the only customer who was arguing loudly with the cashier person.

It was Luke.

"Percy," Annabeth hissed. "Where--"I grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind a counter in front of some electric guitars. Grover joined us there and I put a finger up to my mouth to tell them to be quiet. I pointed over to the cashier and saw their faces pale significantly in the gloom.

"Look, it's a crummy old Beatles album," Luke was saying, extending his arm backwards and pointing to it. "Who the hell still listens to that?"

"Dude," the clerk retorted. She was a pretty blonde who looked about twenty. "The Beatles are legends. That there is-"

"Yeah, yeah, they both have wrong publishing credits for songs 1 and 2 on side 1 and tracks 4 and 6 on side 2, which are unique to the first pressing, but big deal! I mean," Luke leaned in a little. "What can I do to make you change your mind about that price?"

He raised an eyebrow at the store clerk. Beside me, I saw Annabeth's eyes widen and I couldn't help but gag a little. Grover looked kinda sick too. Apparently, Luke was not only a freakin' evil-doer but a bloody man-whore as well. The store clerk's brow creased angrily and she leaned in and began saying something in hushed tones to Luke.

"Quick," I said to Grover, "While he's still there go check what the price is!"

Grover nodded and got up. I saw him try to stick to the shadows, but to see the record you had to go into the lighter part of the store.

So a second later, he was being held up by his collar by Oreius, one of Luke's big bear-man thugs. Annabeth and I watched anxiously as G-man was brought before Luke.

Luke stopped talking to the store clerk. For a moment, he stood stock still, still leaning on the register, then, _shling, _Backbiter was out and pointed right at Grover's terrified neck.

"Underwood," he snarled. Grover made a noise that sounded like a cross between Wall-E and a dying ostrich. "So, where is he?"

"Wh-Whe-Where's who, Luke?" Grover managed. I could tell he was trying really hard not to let his eyes flick over to where we were.

Luke smiled, rippling the scar on one side of his face. "You know perfectly well who I mean."

"Oh, you mean Percy a-and Annabeth?" Grover stuttered. "They're not with me."

"Really?" Luke said, leaning in closer. "What are you doing here, then?"

Grover blinked. "I'm..uh… I'm looking for… Pan?"

"You already found Pan!!" Luke roared. Grover flinched.

"Did I say Pan? I meant… Pam, the cooking spray! Yeah, Chiron sent me here because we ran out back at-"

Luke dug the sword tip a little further into Grover's neck. He quieted instantly.

"Agruis," Luke said, his voice dangerously calm. "Perpare our ride. Orieus, bring the satyr to the roof. We'll be taking him and that record as well." He turned to the clerk, who was sitting at the machine, wide eyed. "I told you, baby, if you'd sold it to me this wouldn't be happening. Oh, and if you know what's good for you, you wouldn't call 911. Ciao," he winked and walked to the front of the store. He calmly took both records off the hooks they were on. Annabeth and I sunk deeper into the counter as Luke announced, "Jackson, if you and your girlfriend are in here somewhere, I just wanted you to know 

that Grover's going to be introduced to a whole new world of pain if you don't show up and tell us what we need to know." He gave another chilling smile. "We'll be on the roof."

I heard helicopter rotors somewhere very near. Luke left the store and Annabeth whispered to me, "What does he mean, 'what the need to know'?"

I looked outside and said, "I don't know. But I guess we're about to find out." I ran out the door, leaving both Annabeth and the store clerk very shocked.

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**Do you like purple? I know I do! It's the color of the REVIEW button. :D**


	5. The Record We've Been Looking For

**Haha, hey everyone! I updated! YAY MEEE! Sorry that it took such and amazing uber long time. It kind of works that way when you move to another country... I posted this like, ten minutes before though and relized, CRAP, I don't have a disclaimer or anything. Anyway, here it is, I hope you enjoy it. :)**

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns all. :)**

A helicopter on the roof. I did not get how I missed that in the least. The wind nearly buffeted me off the fire escape as I climbed in a valiant effort to save Grover-- ahem, G-man-- who must've been rapping pretty loud, because I could hear him over the steady chop-chop-chop of the rotors.

"_Yo, my homies, this is G-man the gangsta rappah… Help!_

_It's colder up here than a Dairy Queen Blizzard,_

_And I got captured by the bear man, but at least he ain't a lizard._

_Now they got the Beatles album and hey, that ain't good,_

_But I'm sure they're super duper (BEEP) cuz Percy Jackson in the hood!"_

"Ow, hey!" I heard him say. "That was my head, you stupid bear! Percy, Annabeth, help me!"

I reached the top and climbed over, uncapping Riptide as well in one fluid motion. I could see them bundling Grover into the helicopter, and I would've completed my mad dash towards it if I hadn't tripped over one of those now-you-see-me-now-you-don't rocks, nearly getting blown off the edge of the roof, and getting back up to find Backbiter digging into my throat.

"Percy Jackson," Luke smirked, very a la Star Wars. "We meet again."

"You're fly's down," I ventured wildly, and got my opportunity when Luke blinked and said, "Wait, what?"

Moving fast, I rammed my shoulder into Luke's chest and sent his sprawling. But man, that guy had abs! The impact left me reeling for a while. Vaguely, I heard Agrius screaming somewhere in the background, probably because of Annabeth taking him on to save Grover or something. With an "oof" I found a wall to lean against, but became aware of something black and vinyl rolling across my field of vision.

Oh my gods. The record. The Beatles. Please, Please Me! It was rolling away! Oh my gods! I watched, paralyzed. Slowly it rolled, and rolled, and then…

I breathed a sigh of relief and started running towards it. I'd forgotten that the roof had little waist high walls. Haha, gotcha there, didn't I?

The only problem was that Luke had the exact same idea as I did. I saw him get up in my peripheral vision, and saw him start running. All my attention was on the record though, so I had absolutely no idea that the man-whore was going to side tackle me! I would've accused him of cheating if I hadn't gone down like a sack of potatoes, getting all the breath knocked out of me and making out with the pleasant, bird-poop covered roof. With a triumphant cry, Luke sprinted madly to the record, tongue sticking out in concentration. Or maybe it was just to taste the wind, like dogs did. You never really knew with Luke.

It was then that I felt it again, that little tug in my gut that I felt when there was water around. I really don't know where I got all of the air all of a sudden, but I stood up tall, stuck out my hand and sang, "STOP!"

Things slowed. No, I don't mean like, I saw them in slow motion, they actually became slow motion. Luke was running almost comically towards the record in a speed that someone's drunk grandma could beat. Only my voice carried out in normal speed, and though I wasn't exactly singing, I recognized the lyrics from the latest High School Musical.

I mean, not that I watched it or anything. I hate High School Musical, and I think it's overrated how Disney Channel keeps showing it like, every other weekend—but, no! I don't watch Disney Channel. Besides, they didn't even show the latest High School Musical on Disney Channel. It was the worst eight bucks I spent to get into a theater, though, let me tell you that. But wait, no, I swear I didn't watch it---

"Luuuukkkeeeee!"

He turned back at me, but kept running.

"Right now I can hardly breathe! But I can do it, all I gotta do is believe," Luke sang, and all the action with Grover and Annabeth and the Bear twins just stopped as they stared at him in shock. So it wasn't just us!

"That record's all I really need!"

"Oh, come on!" he pleaded to someone in the clouds.

"Make me strong," I begged, running in slow motion as well.

"We need to find a theme song!" we sang together, finally getting back to normal speed.

Luke got to the record first, predictably. I stumbled after him in a close second, just managing to grasp the vinyl. Annabeth and Grover wrestled themselves free of Oreius and Agrius and ran to join us by the edge of the roof. Luke and I grappled for the record, not caring about whether or not we damaged it, so long as it was in our possession. It was mad; I think we might have bitten each other or even administered a titty twist or two during the brawl.

"Look, it's Megan Fox!" Luke cried in desperation, his face red and sweating as he kept both hands on the record. Grover and Annabeth were at a loss for what to do, seeing as since we were practically on top of each other, hitting Luke probably meant hitting me too.

"That's not gonna work on me, Luke!" I yelled, pulling the record closer, and closer, and closer…

"Okay, okay, I lied, so maybe it's just George Clooney—"

"Where?!" I screamed, letting go, sending Luke tumbling backwards. Whirling around and seeing no George Clooney, the truth hit me like Silena Bauregard did with her frying pan. As I heard Luke's triumphant cry, the color drained from my face as I realized I'd been shamelessly tricked into looking for an actor I didn't even think particularly handsome.

Luke held the record high in the air, looking satisfied with how the vinyl glinted in the sun. He kept Backbiter trained on me so I wouldn't do anything funny. Grinning that stupid, sadistic grin, he called out to his cronies, "Oreuis, Agrius, let's—"

"NOOOOOOOO!" Grover screamed suddenly, and launched himself at Luke.

Needless to say, a satyr hurtling at someone like a speeding truck is more than enough to make them lose their balance. Luke fell, his mouth forming a little "o" as he lost his grip on "Please, Please Me" and it went plunging over the roof's wall, falling as fatally as a record could towards the busy street below.

Annabeth and I rushed towards the edge where Grover and Luke were already searching the ground. The sight I was met with was appalling. The record was okay, I'll give you that. It's just who it had landed on that sent shivers down my spine.

"Hey!" cried Corbin Bleu down on the street. "The first EVER Beatles' record fell from the sky and onto my afro, thereby cushioning the fall! That's amazing!" He looked left and right before hugging the vinyl to his chest and scampering off like a little rat.

Luke and I then both said a word that I could never, ever possibly get down on paper. Ever.


	6. DI ANGELO

**EVERYBODY, GUYS, UPDATE: I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, BUT THERE WAS A PART OF THE STORY THAT DIDN'T COME THROUGH THE FIRST TIME THIS WAS PUBLISHED. I'M SORRY IF IT DIDN'T MAKE SENSE TO SOME PEOPLE, BUT I PUT THE TINY MISSING PART IN BOLD, JUST SO... YOU KNOW... THAT HYDRA DOESN'T APPEAR OUT OF NO WHERE. :)**

**OMG! I updated! xoxo BTW, have any of you read Carter Kane yet? I haven't!**

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns all. Aren't you guys so excited for the new Camp Half-Blood to come out in October??? That will give us more to write about! Haha!**

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Lucky for us, _High School Musical: the Concert Tour_ was in town, explaining why Corbin Bleu was crawling around my pristine city and not hanging around the planet from whence he and his afro came.

See, after Luke and I finished screaming that profanity at the rest of the world, he turned to me and knocked me out with one quick hit from the butt of his sword. When I woke up, Grover and Annabeth were there and Luke had gotten away on his helicopter, leaving me with a very detailed message involving lots of mean, uncouth words that would give little old ladies severe aneurysms. Well, actually, the message was _all _words that gave little old ladies severe aneurysms.

So, now, Grover, Annabeth and I were walking down the street; I holding an icepack to my head and G-man beat boxing under his breath, making our way slowly but surely towards the concert grounds. We'd been through the plan a million times: Grover would create a distraction while Annabeth and I would sneak around the guards. I'd create another distraction if Annabeth ever needed it, and with her cap of invisibility, she'd find her way to Corbin Bleu's dressing room and find the record.

Assuming the record was there, of course. We figured it would be, since the show would start about an hour later, leaving Corbin not much time to go anywhere else.

Or did it?!

"Ow, watch it!" I cried at the crazy screaming fan-girl that nearly ran me over. She didn't seem to care that a whole Percy Jackson-sized load of attitude was being thrown her way, and just yelled something unintelligible into the wind and raised the sign she was carrying up higher.

"That was, what," Annabeth mused, shaking her head, "the fifth in three minutes?" She pulled Grover aside as a whole horde of them stampeded past like Amazonians. Not a comforting sight, trust me.

I grunted, rubbing my shoulder. "Do you think they're all running to the concert?" Grover asked. "If there are more of them, it might be easier to sneak in," he added hopefully.

Then Annabeth stopped so abruptly that I walked into her. "They're not running to the concert—not if that says what I think it says," she muttered, eyes wide.

The crowd parted around us we stood and followed Annabeth's line of vision. Hanging on the lamppost was a poster advertising the concert, but across Troy Bolton's ecstatic face was a strip of bright yellow tape with bold black writing on it. To me, it read, "lCanleced".

"'Cancelled'," Grover translated, crestfallen.

"But then… Corbin Bleu… Record… the Beatles… Camp," I stammered. "SINGING!" I screamed, getting looks from the passers-by. "Singing," I repeated, softer.

"Yes, Percy—"

**"!"**

**I paled. The last time I heard that sound, it... Pain. I remembered pain.**

"Guys, move!" I screamed suddenly, pushing Grover and Annabeth out of the way as the Hydra's foot came crashing down onto the lamppost. It screamed and raised its foot, and I could see it sticking out as if it were a giant splinter.

I looked up at it, not understanding. Either this was just one really, really lost Hydra, or someone did _not _want us to have that record.

"Get out of the way!" someone cried, pulling me into an alley. Where I had been a split-second ago was a circle of burnt concrete where the Hydra had spit acid. My gods.

Turning around, I came face to face with a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very familiar looking girl. You know, black curls, sort of Hispanic-y/Asian-y look. It's one of those faces that you just see _everywhere. _I just... Where did I see... Gods, this girl looks familiar, it's just...

"Are you okay?" she asked. "It looks like you're about to have a stroke,"

I blinked, finally pulling it together. "You're that chick from High School Musical! Whatsisface's girlfriend! Troy, Troy's girlfriend! Gods, what's your name? It starts with like, a... a W, it starts with a W!"

The girl blinked right back at me. "It's Gabriella," she muttered. "You know, for the son of the sea god, you're not very bright."

This surprised me. I didn't really think anything could surprise me after I saw Selena break into the chorus of "Break the Ice". "How do you know who I am?"

"Everyone knows who you are, Perseus Jackson," she intoned menacingly before smiling that Troy-you-make-me-melt smile. "Everyone who's been to Camp, is at Camp and will be at Camp knew, knows and will know you. And right now, I hear I'm not the only one bursting into song?"

"Well, someone knows their tense of verbs," I said. "And yeah, you're not. You're a demigod, Mikaela?"

She nodded. "Yeah, a daughter of Apollo. And it's Gabriella, not Mikaela, and that's not even my real name. It's Va--"

One of the Hydra's heads whipped into our alley, forcing us to flatten ourselves against the wall. On an impulse, I drew Riptide and cut it right off.

"Crap, what was I thinking, Isabella?!" I cried, grabbing Whatserface's hand and dragging her out the alley. We were met with a sea of confused, screaming people. Looking behind, I could already see the Hydra's head(s, now) growing back.

"You weren't!" I heard Whatserface shout over the screech of the monster. "And that's not my name!" This time a foot came swiping at us, which I stabbed at. Grover and Annabeth were no where in sight, and I was beginning to panic. We needed fire to kill this Hydra, and there wasn't fire _anywhere._

"Percy Jackson!" she shouted. "Over there, a gas station!"

I stabbed the monster's foot again. Whipping around, I caught sight of a gas station. "Hey, Cinderella, over there! A gas station!"

She was already running towards it, but when she looked back at me, she didn't look pleased. She just shook her head and screeched, "Hurry Up!"

I stabbed at it's foot one more time, and then tossed Riptide into oblivion to distract it. Vaguely, I heard the sound of glass breaking and another car alarm wailing, but that seemed to work, and the monster began stomping the other way.

Daniella started handing me gasoline containers. "We can't blow up the station; there are too many people."

"Good thinking, Uriella," I said, to which she replied, "That's not my name."

As soon as we'd taken as much as we could carry, I caught sight of this _gorgeous _blond chick doing the same thing with some other containers at the back of the store.

She caught me looking. "Percy!" she screamed, and came running at me. "Grover, come on!"

Oh. It's Annabeth. Jeez, I've got to get that checked. Anyways, sure enough, G-man skittered into the scene from around the corner, rapping about gasoline.

_Hey, gasoline ain't nice_

_It 's the cause of global warming_

_Just like factories, and cow fart, and biofuel farming--_

"Grover!" I yelled, tossing more containers into his arms. He yelped and slipped, but I didn't really care, because when I turned to do the same to Annabeth, she was glaring at me and the other girl.

"Who's this?" she asked venomously. Whatserface didn't seem to hear and just kept passing me containers. There weren't enough to cover my face, though, much less shield me from whatever Annabeth had in mind.

"She's er.... her name is.... er...." I stammered. Then, almost thankfully, the Hydra roared from nearer and I began rushing back onto the street, and used Riptide, which was back in my pocket, to cut open the container and begin sloshing gasoline on the monster's foot, which was only like a meter away. Annabeth, Grover and A Capella started doing the same.

"Salmonella!" I called. When the girl looked at me, she looked at me with so much intensity that I didn't believe that she starred as a singing and dancing little math nerd in three movies.

"That's not my name," she ground out, pointing the container's nozzle in my direction, which I found really, really scary. I backed away, right into Annabeth.

She growled, too, but softened up when she saw my predicament. "Hey, you two, that's enough. Um... You, do you have a match?" she asked Manuela.

Miguella shook her head and pouted. "No, only a lighter."

Annabeth and her stared at each other for a while; Annabeth disbelievingly, and the other blankly. It lasted a while longer before the Hydra roared again and swiped at a car, and Whatserface said, "Oh, that works too!" and dug the lighter out of her pocket.

"Okay, everybody run!" Annabeth cried, and I didn't need her to say it again. When we were safely in the shadow of an alley, she lit the thing and the tossed it as hard as she can at the huge, lumbering Hydra with the lamppost bearing Troy Bolton's face stuck in it's foot. I sheltered my head from the blast and didn't see much, but judging from the sound, that Hydra was no more.

_Hey, Percy, _said the voice in my head then. _Stop hiding. Don't you have a concert to catch?_

* * *

The fact that there was a Hydra on the street didn't seem to deter the crazy fan girls. Annabeth, Grover and I had asked Ariella about that, but she said she didn't know either, but she was nice enough to walk us to the concert grounds and wish us good luck. As she was waving bye to us from a little ways over, I told Annabeth and Grover to wait for me, because there was something I needed to do.

I jogged over to where she was standing. "Hey," I said.

"Hey," she said right back. "Good thing you were there, huh, when that Hydra came. I couldn't have ever handled it alone."

"Hey, thanks for helping," I said. "Which is um, all I needed to say. It was really nice meeting you, Gabriella!" I called as she walked out to cross the street.

"Percy!" she cried, turning back to me excitedly, "You remembered my---"

A Toyota Vios nearly ran her over then, stopping about an inch from her legs and honking loud and angrily. Gabriella glared at it manically before pulling a knife out of her boots and stabbing it through the windshield, scaring the living daylights out of the driver.

"Watch where you're going, faggot!" she screamed, then launched into a tirade about drunk lady drivers, even though this driver was neither drunk nor a woman.

"I think we'd better go, Seaweed Brain," said Annabeth, taking my arm and pulling me gently away.

It turns out we didn't even need to sneak so much. There was such a riot at the entrance that the tickets were barely checked, and Annabeth, Grover and I got in easily. There were tons of people, but we found it easy enough to stick to the walls and make our way slowly but steadily to the front of the stadium, where we'd assess the situation and find our way backstage. Loads of people did it like that at concerts that weren't even this packed, said Grover, making me wonder how he knew.

For the second time that day, Annabeth stopped abruptly. "Guys," she said, stricken. "Do you hear what they're chanting?"

I'd noticed earlier that a chant was starting, but I didn't concentrate until now. What I heard now sent chills down my spine. I looked at Annabeth, eyes wide,

"No," Grover breathed, but the crowd's chant didn't change. Over and over and over it went; the same last name, over... and over... and over...

"DI AN-GE-LO!" _Clap-clap-clap-clap! "_DI AN-GE-LO!" _Clap-clap-clap-clap!_"

Then the lights dimmed. The three of us found ourselves surrounded by the crowd, unable to move. Annabeth grabbed my hand suddenly and Grover pressed in close. Out of the blue--

"NEW YORK, ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?!?!?!?!?!"

Everyone around us screamed, and the next few minutes were like all Hades breaking loose. But, of course, if that voice belonged to who I think it did, it probably was. The guitars started up. The drums started banging. In the next moment, the lights flared, and standing on stage, his small form nearly totally covered by smoke, was Nico di Angelo, a jet black electric guitar hanging around his tiny neck.


	7. Why I Really Hate Luke

**This is the first chapter with a song since chapter... One. I think. Hahaha. Enjoy lovely people! Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Feel free to PM me if you're confused or have suggestions, by the way. xoxoxo **

**Disclaimer: I can only wish that Percy Jackson were mine. Wait, I don't even wish that, because then it would end up like this:**

* * *

I have absolutely no recollection of what Nico di Angelo played that night, but all I can remember was that it was abso-freakin'-lutely awesome.

Grover and Annabeth seemed to think the same. We and the crazy fan-people (because there were guys and lesbians and gays there, too) became almost one of thought and feeling, jumping up and down in time with the music. The cymbals crashed. The guitars screamed. The dude on the piano was rocking out so hard, I prayed to the gods that it wouldn't break. It was insane, nonsensical mayhem, and I loved it to the extreme.

Then suddenly, Annabeth was gone.

My heart skipped a beat when I looked to find her not there. I think that ever since I'd gotten lost in the mall when I was five (and seven... and ten.... and thirteen and fourteen), I've had issues with lost company. Some people say "loyal to a fault"; hey, I call it trauma. Head whipping around wildly, I searched the throng, but spotted only G-man a few feet away, where the current of this manic sea of people had dragged him.

I pushed my way over. "Grover!" I called, but he kept on dancing his little goat dances, oblivious. Clearing my throat, I yelled, louder, "G-MAN!"

Finally, he looked up, face drenched in sweat. "Hey, Perrrcy," he bleated happily. "Where's Annabeth?"

As I was explaining to him that I didn't know, his eyes grew wider and wider until I thought they'd fall right out of their sockets.

"Perrrrrcy!" he bleated again in alarm, and pointed.

"Annabeth?"

I didn't say that. Nico did, into his almighty broadcast-everywhere microphone. Turning, I found one of the stage hands pulling a curly blonde girl onto the stage, as directed by Nico.

_No. _

"Hey, look, everyone!" Nico said happily. "This is my friend, Annabeth!"

Annabeth just smiled, high as a kite on Di Angelo's music, and continued to bob up and down as Nico finished off the show with a zingy, dangerously electric solo on his guitar. With the final chord, the lights all around us exploded, plunging the world into darkness.

"GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY!"

Grover and I shared a look in the semi-darkness. He jumped when suddenly, a stagehand tapped him on the shoulder.

I stared. The stagehand wasn't human, at least not presently. She was pretty transparent, and I mean this literally. Through her face, I could see the fan-people behind her still screaming in excitement, which was weird, because the show had already ended.

"Mr. di Angelo instructed me to come and get you, Mr. Underwood and Mr. Jackson," she said in a slightly raspy, hasn't-been-used-in-a-while voice. "Your companion, Ms. Chase, is with us already."

Another shared look between me and Grover. "Uh, sure," I replied. "Show us the way."

* * *

The sleek black limo dropped G-man and I off at the hotel shortly after ten. We followed the stagehand into the elevator that took us to the penthouse floor, but when we got there, she didn't go out with us.

"I must return to the Underworld, else my form will dissipate altogether," she explained, holding the door open button.

"Eh, good to know," Grover muttered. "Good night."

She nodded to us once as the doors closed on her, leaving me and Grover all alone in the hallway. The signs on the wall guided us to set of suites the band Di Angelo had booked, and soon we were standing in front of the room that the undead stagehand had told us was Nico's.

"So Nico's in there," I said to Grover.

"Yep," he replied, nodding slowly.

"Do we really wanna knock?"

"Yep."

"Do we really wanna go in?"

"Yep."

"Have a nice bath, and a shower?"

"Yep."

"Do we really wanna--"

"Percy, just open the door already!"

I must admit, I jumped a little at that, and fumbled around with the key card a long while before I finally slid it into the slot. The light on knob turned green, and G-man and I pushed inside.

We were met with the absolute definition of luxury. Creme drapes, lush Persian carpets, marble floors and elegant light fixtures and a wooden floor molding, not to mention this _huge as hell plasma screen TV_! Our mouths hung open as we took this all in, and soon, I had taken off my shoes and socks and was dancing around on the cold, Cold-Stone-vanilla-ice cream colored floor. Grover kicked off his fake feet and ran over to inspect the view from the all glass wall on one side.

"Like it?" someone said. I looked to find Nico di Angelo himself smiling at me. His dark hair was wet, and he was wearing his pyjamas under a bathrobe bearing the hotel's emblem. Fresh outta the shower.

"Like it? Like it?! Nico, dude, this is crazy!" I cried, throwing my hands up in the air and waving them around wildly to emphasize my point.

"Ants," Grover said bemusedly, "The people look like ants."

Nico grinned even wider. "Glad you do. Now, Elvis insisted on making us some dinner, so until he's done you have to tell me everything that's happened."

"Awesome," I said, plopping down onto the sofa with him. I caught him up on everything that's happened since our big _Half-Blood Melody _number at Camp. He listened well for a 12-year-old, ADHD kid and didn't ask a single question until the end.

"So that's what happened," he mused to himself. Looking to me, he asked, "So are all demigods affected?"

Nodding, I answered, "Annabeth thinks all the demigods who've been to camp. Luke went all High School Musical on me, and Gabriella mentioned something about bursting into song as well."

At this, he looked thoughtful. "Does it matter who gets the record, then?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, startled.

"I mean, if every demigod is affected, then it shouldn't matter who finds the theme song so long as it gets us to stop singing."

I paused, thinking through my answer. "Well, that might be true, but I'm afraid that the demigod savior can't be Luke. He seems severely distraught by the unmanliness of bursting into Disney songs. He feels bad about suffering, and to make himself feel better he'd make _us _suffer _more. _By this, I mean, if he manages to get the record and cure himself first, I doubt he would share, due to the fact as a child he never felt loved by his godly parent, which then paved the way to his current sadistic ways."

Nico, Grover, and now Annabeth, who'd just come out from the bathroom wearing a PJ set identical to Nico's, gaped at me as if I had brought Shamoo back from the dead.

"Hey," I told them, wagging a finger. "I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

The continued gaping so much that I felt compelled to add, "But I am still pretty, right? Right?"

Silence.

Annabeth giggled out of the blue. "Of course you are!"

Cocking his head sideways, Nico asked, "Annabeth, are you high?"

"Psh, NO!" Annabeth said vehemently, but followed that with a giggle and, "Hey, look at my hands. How weird are my hands?"

Nico heaved a sigh. "Wait right here," he breathed, and stalked into the bedroom.

Grover took Annabeth by the shoulders and sat her down next to me on the sofa. She giggled and poked my shoulder, which really freaked me out.

"Lennon!" I heard Nico call. "We have guests, man, and they're inhaling that stuff!"

"Oh, sorry," a British accent replied. "I guess I should head off. Getting late, you know."

"'Night, man," said Nico.

A man with round spectacles exited the bedroom just then, looking very, very familiar. With his hair cut short and his beard overflowing, it took a long time before it finally dawned on me.

Annabeth said it before I could. "Hey, you're John Lennon!"

John Lennon smiled. "Hey, Nico, this one knows me!"

"Sure I do!" laughed Annabeth. "Beatlemania for-EVER!" She then held out her hand for John Lennon to slap a high-five with her. He did.

"Got that right! My, my, are you high," he mused. "Sorry 'bout the smoke, poppet, I didn't realize Nico'd gone out and you'd gone in." In a conspiratorial whisper he added, "That kid doesn't mind a little weed once in a while."

"Get outta here, John!" Nico laughed.

"Ah, well, tomorrow then, if ever!" said John. He winked at me and Grover and began walking to the door.

"I don't mind a little weed either," Annabeth called to him. He let out one last jovial laugh, stepped out the door and then... disappeared.

Just then, another man came out of the mini-kitchen, bearing a plate of sandwiches. This one, I recognized much easier, because despite the changed hairstyle, that was a face everyone knew.

"Elvis Presley," I breathed.  
He looked at me and smiled a glaring white smile. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted. Then he turned to Nico. "John's left now, has he? I guess Beety and I should get going."

Nodding, Nico took the plate from Elvis. "See you soon."

Elvis stuck his head back into the kitchen and screamed, "Hey, hey, you! Ja, you! We have to go. No, no. We—Have—To--Go. Yes. Go. Vamoose. Andale."

Finally, he emerged from the kitchen with his companion, the band's pianist. The other man a shock of hair on his head and a receding hairline, who Annabeth instantly put a name to.

"Ludwig van Beethoven," she smiled.

"I'll tell him later that you recognized him. It'll take ages right now; the poor fellow's deaf," said Elvis apologetically. "Real swell show we had to night, Nico!"

"You bet! Thanks for dinner!" Nico smiled as both Elvis and Beethoven walked out the door, then... poof.

We sat there, silent, as we pondered Nico's band-mates. Very quietly, Grover said, "Where's your drummer?"

"Right here," said a voice behind us. Grover jumped about three feet out of his seat. Looking, I saw that it was just a small boy with a mop of curly brown hair, whom I knew I've seen a few times... somewhere.

He grabbed a sandwich from Nico. "A fried peanut-butter banana sandwich," he said in the cutest Elvis imitation I've ever heard. This kid made me want to put him in my closet and have him sing me lullabies at night. "'Night, Nics, see ya in the morning."

"Later, Frankie," said Nico as the child stepped out the door. The kid stood there for a while and...

Whirling on us, he said, "Ha! I bet you thought I'd disappear too! Well, guess what? I'm alive!" he squealed, before stepping simply into the room across the hall, laughing like a little maniac.

Silence.

"Frankie Jonas, the bonus Jonas," I heard Grover whisper, as if Frankie's presence had awed him most of all.

"Well..." Nico said, setting the plate down in front of us. Without a second to lose, we grabbed the sandwiches and bit in gratefully. Nico sat down on one of the armchairs around the coffee table with his own dinner.  
"I guess I owe you guys an explanation."

* * *

Annabeth was asleep by now, and Grover was busy using the VAIO that Nico had purchased with the money he'd made from his headlining American tour. I glanced at my little cousin as he watched TV with rapt attention next to me.

"You're trying to disprove my theory," Nico said without looking away from the screen.

Slightly creeped out, I shifted in my seat. "Yeah... I mean, Nico, if we really did inherit musical superpowers, then what's mine and Annabeth's? Or Beckendorf's? Or Silena's?"

From over at the computer, Grover piped up, "Annabeth's is her singing voice. She doesn't have one, really."

Nico nodded. "She sounded pretty sweet in the shower."

The shower... Annabeth... soap suds... like a commercial, I imagined the steam rising around her and then the camera panning down... lower...

I shook the image out of my head as Nico continued on. "I mean, how else could I have gotten so good at guitar? I never even considered picking one up before!"

"I guess it's true, then," I said with a nod. "But why don't I get one?"

"You have that creepy little voice in your head," Grover quipped. "I hear it over the empathy link."

"No, no, Percy's just crazy," said Nico dismissively, shaking his head. I didn't even defend myself anymore. "Anyway, Percy, please let me go with you!"

"No."

"Please! It's my birthday, tomorrow, you know," he warned.

Grover turned to us. "Uh, according to your Facebook fan page, no it's NOT."

Nico looked perplexed. "What are you doing on my fan page? Background checking me?"

"Pfft, no. I'm joining."

Putting on my best all business look, I turned to Nico. The kid was all smiles and ego. When he saw me, he flinched suddenly and said, "Hey, are you okay? You look like you're about to have a stroke!"

"Nico, you can't come because Luke is there and he's an asshole," I said finally when I'd fixed my face. I said this all rushed and hurriedly because I could feel that tug in my gut again... like, a song coming on. Oh no.

Nico began strumming on his acoustic guitar idly. "Why do you hate Luke so much, Percy?"

"I-" I stammered. "I... I.... _SHAH!_"

The kid's strumming began to take on a tune, one which I remembered from the radio. If I was right [which doesn't happen often, except when it comes to knowing who's leaving Idol the next week (except for the time when Chris Daughtry left. Man, that was crazy!)] the song was _7 Things_, by Miley Cyrus herself.

_**Percy: **_

_SHAH...! SHAH...! SHAH...!_

_I probably shouldn't say this..._

_You know, at times I get so scared_

_Of what Annabeth would do to me_

_If she ever heard_

_Tried to delete it from my mind_

_But best believe it, life ain't kind_

_Oh when it comes... To Luke._

_The Seven things I hate about Luke!_

_His smile, his smirk, how he's such a jerk_

_Just drives me so berserk!_

_How first he was good, and now he's bad, _

_It makes me so insanely mad._

_That's only four,_

_But I can think of more, _

_Like all the hurt_

_I used to think he was really coo-ool._

_And the final thing, I hate the most about Luke:_

_Annabeth thinks he's cute._

_**Grover and Nico:**_

_Ooooh, oooh, ooohh... oooh, ooohh, ooohhh_

_Sha la la_

_Ooooh, ooh, oohh... ooh, ooohh, ooohhh_

_...SHA!_

Nico brought the song to a finish with some dramatic, slow, small strums on his guitar, and Grover with some jazz-hands. I laid back on the couch, tired and listless and frustrated at how unfair it was that I had to go through all this unmanliness.

Sighing I said, "You can come, Nico."

He pumped his fists in the air and settled back beside me as a rerun of the E! News came on.

"Today we have big news regarding your favorite Disney star," Guilliana Rancic said, the same way one would say, "Well, Edward, I know who Bella's lover is." On the TV, a clip showed up of a Toyota Vios with a huge crack in its windshield. It looked as if it were right outside the place where Nico had his concert.

"Oh, goodie, I hope Selena Gomez did that!" Nico whispered excitedly.

"High School Musical lead, Vanessa Anne Hudgens, was arrested today for--"

Nico switched the channel with a "Meh."

_Vanessa Anne Hudgens... Where have I heard that name before? _I thought, sleepy. Blearily, I heard Grover and Nico's small exclamation of delight, followed by, "That's what you missed last week on GLEE."

"Oh, Percy." Looks like Nico remembered something. "I know where Corbin Bleu lives down in L.A. You think we can get a plane to there tomorrow?"

I mumbled something and turned over, asleep. It was only in the morning, when Nico would repeat this information to Annabeth and Grover, that I would look at him and debate with myself whether to slap the kid or to buy him an ice cream.


	8. the DiPSTIC

**OMG, another song in this chapter!! *Excitement!* Just a couple of notes though: I used Singapore Airlines because I haven't flown any other airline other than that, Phil Air, Silk Air and Cebu Pac. Cebu Pac makes me want to hurl myself out of a window, Phil Air makes me proud to be Filo but I don't know much about its international flights, Silk Air just depresses me cause it's nice but doesn't have TV in the seat so... Sing Air it is. **

**Oh, and PUH-LEASE tell me no one has beaten me to the punch of having iPads in their FanFic! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own: Percy Jackson (book or movie), Singapore Airlines, the iPad, the HP Slate, the iTouch, Discovery Channel, Mega Engineering, So You Think You Can Dance?, Californication, Welcome to the Sex Plane (or How I Met Your Mother), Glee, Boeing, or the SarcMark. I feel poor. Oh, and: Mossimo Dutti, Nike, Party in the USA, Disney, Lord of the Rings and Armani. Technically, not even the DiPSTIC is mine. (Read on and Find OUT!!!)**

**

* * *

  
**

There weren't any seats left on the planes headed to LA, but all Nico had to do was flip his hair. One second, his glossy black locks were glinting in the sunlight, then _BAM_, we were in ownership of four tickets to Cali.

They were coach, but Annabeth told me not to complain.

We sat in the four adjacent seats in the middle of the Boeing 747, surrounded by so many people that it made me antsy, even though Grover had repeatedly assured me that we were monster-free. To my left, in the aisle seat, sat Annabeth, clutching her iTouch, immersed in Discovery Channel's _Mega Engineering. _Nico and Grover had their iTouches out too; Grover to watch the latest _So You Think You Can Dance _episodes and Nico to finish the season of _Californication_ he downloaded_. _

Me? I just had the stupid magazine that was in the pocket under the tray table.

Nico must've noticed the emo vibes emanating off of me, because the not-quite-kid-friendly scene on screen came to an abrupt stop as he ran his finger over a button. Then, he just looked up at me and stared.

He kept staring.

Stare. Stare. Stare. Stare. Stare.

Man, he has _really _brown eyes.

Okay, I blinked.

"Haha! I win!" he whisper-cried, throwing his hands up in the air. They were so small, they barely went over his head. I guess the fact that I was the right size for my age was a small consolation in a world where eyes dry out very easily.

Deciding the subject needed changing, I rolled my eyes. Best not to linger on defeat, and all that, so I scoffed and said, "Nico, you're what, eleven? Aren't you too young for that kind of a show?"

Nico smirked, and suddenly I knew I'd said the wrong thing. Raising an eyebrow, he replied, "Well, Percy, I'd hate for your mom to find about _Welcome to the Sex Plane_ by Dirt and Skank, the Raunch brothers. Ooh, boy, and that's not the _only _thing under your bed!"

There was silence for a while after that as I resumed sitting back in my chair, just wondering how my mother would react to that. Nico's episode ended soon after, and he pulled the earphones out of his ears and stowed the iTouch in one of the many pockets of his Mossimo Dutti black leather jacket.

"Hey, Perc, don't you have an iTouch?" Nico asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

I hung my head. "Only in the movie, I do."

"Yeah," Grover piped up. "In the books he's just this kid with a White Stripes CD."

Nico patted my back sympathetically. Having heard our conversation, Annabeth cocked her head sideways, then removed her earphones. "Here, have this one!" she smiled, giving me her iTouch.

Nico, Grover and I gawked at her.

"No... I can't... I-- I-- This is yours!" I sputtered.

Annabeth just shook her head. Reaching under the seat in front of her, she pulled out her backpack. She winked at us as she searched around inside of it, and ended up taking out a brand new, sleek little screen thingie.

Grover looked as if she'd pulled Brad Pitt out of there. "Whoooaaaaa," he breathed, eyes sparkling. Nico stretched out his hand to stroke the tablet, but Annabeth jerked her arms away. She elbowed a flight stewardess in the leg on accident, but no one really noticed because they were all staring at the shiny new Apple product.

I stared at the iTouch in my lap. Suddenly, it looked so inferior. No wonder she gave it to me... Man, and I thought she just loved me!

Amid the breaking of my heart into a million pieces, I turned back to Annabeth and asked, "Is that an...Is that an iPad, Annabeth?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. She turned the thing on, and a screen set up much like an iPhone's appeared as she said, "No, Percy, it's a beach ball."

At this, I started to panic. "What?! Really?! Cause I see an iPad. Oh my gods, am I going--"

Nico slapped me on the upside of the head. "Calm down, you dolt. She was being sarcastic."

"Really?"

"No, actually, that's really a beach ball!" Nico cried, throwing his really short arms into the air again.

"OH MY GODS--"

"Percy, shut up. It's an iPad."

"Jeez," I said, clutching at my chest. My heart was still pounding like crazy. "Make up your minds already."

"Hey, hey, hey," Grover called, waving his hand at us. "Annabeth and Nico, you guys should really use a SarcMark on that!"

We turned to him and stared, eyes wide, surprised to see that he too was holding an iPad. Annabeth had to check her hands to see if hers was still there. It was.

Nico spoke very slowly. "Grover... Where did you get that iPad?"

"Oh," Grover replied enthusiastically. "I got it at the Kris Shop!"

At this exclamation, a photographer appeared and snapped a photo of a happy satyr and his brand new iPad, probably to add to the Kris Shop magazine's next issue.

Annabeth's eye twitched. "Remind me why we're on a Singapore Airlines flight again?"

I shook my head, because honestly, I had no idea.

Nico coughed then. "So, uh, what's a SarcMark, Grover?"

"It's a punctuation mark used to punctuate sarcasm," he replied, turning his screen toward us. On it was a picture of a swirl and then a dot. If my psychiatrist had showed me a picture like that during one of our sessions, I would've said it looked like a period getting flushed down the toilet.

"That would've been handy," said Annabeth, who had Googled it on her iPad. Gods, how is there even internet this high up? "Except that you can only use it on paper, Grover."

Making a sound like the gameshow buzzer that goes off when you're wrong, Nico waved his hand at all of us, urging us to shut up. He had his earphones plugged into _his _new iPad, watching the SarcMark commercial on YouTube. "Dude, we should have the thing here like this guy!" he said, amazed.

I scrunched up my nose, looking in. "A spandex costume?"

Nico turned his head sideways. "I meant the big SarcMark stamp thing, but spandex would be kind of cool too."

A gasp came from Annabeth. "Nico, you can't just go stamping SarcMarks on people!"

We all uncrowded from his seat suddenly as he gave a menacing laugh. He tilted his head downwards, casting weird shadows on his face. Rubbing his teeny-tiny hands together, he said, "Oh, yes we can, little Annabeth. Oh, yes we can."

I gulped, a little more than scared out of my mind. Right then and there, I made it sure that one of my life goals was to never let Nico anywhere near a SarcMark stamp.

An announcement came over the intercom then. "Good afternoon, everyone, this is your pilot speaking. Once again, this is flight SQ514 bound for the LAX in LA from the JFK in the NYC, and our EAT will be... IDK, approximately 2:40 PM? We are now making our final descent. GTG, TTYL, XOXO."

"Too. Many. Initialisms," I groaned, clutching at my head.

"Awww," said Grover, obviously touched, "he gave us hugs and kisses! Now I know that we'll _so _never crash"

Annabeth just shook her head, fastened her seat belt and leaned back. Nico kept fiddling with his iPad until a flight stewardess came and asked him to turn it off. He pouted, but after she informed him in hushed tones about how me might all die a fiery death if he didn't put it away, the iPad went into his jet black Armani messenger bag.

Silence. Just the whirring of the big turning thingies attached to the wings.

After a moment's more pause, I said, "You know what, screw you all. I'm getting an HP Slate."

* * *

**_Meanwhile, in the Underworld_**

**_

* * *

  
_**

"So nobody knows where Corbin Bleu lives?" Luke asked in bewilderment. He turned on his heel to face Ethan Nakamura, who was bent over an iPad. Of course, it wasn't just any iPad. It was an EVIL iPad, forged from the fires of Mount Mordor itself and cut out of the very steel that Sauron--

Whoops. What I meant to say is that this iPad leaped right out of Tartarus and into Luke's hands. Obviously, Kronos was getting tired of his demigod minions' constant Disney drama. They could at least sing _Glee _once in a while or something.

"No," replied Ethan after trawling through yet another website. "I think people did, but then simultaneously forgot when he released his album and sucked eggs."

Luke growled, making Ethan flinch. Bad things always happened when Luke growled.

"We don't have time for jokes, Nakamura!" he yelled, flinging Backbiter in Ethan's direction. Ethan flung himself to the ground and winced as some unfortunate being cried out as the sword cut right through them.

"I'm not joking!" Ethan cried. He got up and brought the iPad to the other boy. Seeing the data Ethan had on screen, Luke had no choice but to nod.

"So, that blinking red dot that's moving across the United States right now isn't Corbin?" Luke wondered, tracking the wonderful red dot as it crossed the Dakotas.

"Blinking red dot..." Ethan scanned the screen. "Oh, no, that's just my demigodly iPad tracker."

Suddenly, Luke was stock still. "Demigodly... what, Nakamura?"

Ethan sighed exasperatedly through his nose. "It's not Corbin, okay? It just tracks iPads that come into the possession of either Percy, Annabeth or Grover. That's not--"

Luke was staring at Ethan meaningfully. (No, not that way, perverts!) Ethan looked right back at the screen and let out a small, "Oh."

"They're coming to LA," breathed Luke. "Ohmigods, that must mean Corbin Bleu lives in LA!"

Together, he and Ethan squealed and danced around their Underworldly room for a while. Then, getting a hold of themselves, they coughed all manly-like and did an manly chest bump.

"Damn, we're good," said Luke, watching the blinking red dot make its way closer and closer.

"Actually, I invented the demigodly iPad tracker--"

"I think I'll call this the Demigodly iPad Supersonic Tracker Intelligence Console," mused Luke, eyes fixed on the dot.

"Luke, it's neither supersonic, nor is it an intelligence console... It's just an iPad rigged up to--"

"The DiPSTIC."

Ethan gave up. "Creative, sir," he muttered. How he wished he had a SarcMark stamp.

But... oh... oh, no... not this again!

Luke suddenly gave a "YEOW!" starting their "get the record" scheming off... to the tune of _Party in the USA, _by Miley Cyrus.

_**Luke: **Well, they'll hop off the plane at LAX_

_ Thinking that they're going to win_

_ But we'll be there, evil in excess_

_ They're never gonna find Corbin_

_**Ethan: **Dude, I think they have the Nico boy with them_

_ Bet he knows where Corbin lives; let's kidnap him!_

_**Luke: **That's just freaking awesome!_

_ Seriously, that kid is gonna get some!_

_**Ethan: **_*spoken* Get some, _what_, exactly, Luke?

_**Luke: **So, when we get him will torture him into telling_

_ Where Corbin lives, then we'll finally stop singing_

_ Just when Jackson thinks he'll win again_

_**Ethan: **He'll still be bursting into song..._

_ He'll be bursting into song..._

_ Bursting into song!_

_**Luke: **Ethan, put your hands up!_

_ I think we've just won!_

_ We're gonna get the record real soon._

_ We'll be partying hard like YEAH_

_**Ethan: **Percy Jackson's a FAG like YEAH_

**Luke: ***spoken* That was pretty random, man.

_**Ethan: **Just throw your hands up!_

_ We have SO just won!_

_ No Disney shall we ever croon!_

_**Ethan and Luke: **Yeah, yeah, yeah, we'll have our own Underworldly tune._

_ Yeah, yeah, yeah, our very own Underworld tune. _

_ Yeah, yeah, yeah, our very own Underworld tune!_

They ended with jazz hands and head banging, despite the fact that the song was neither rock nor jazz. In fact, it was rather odd of Miley Cyrus to release a reggae song. Not that Luke cared, really. He was getting that record, and the Titan army was going to win, because Percy will be too busy singing and dancing to manage his troops, not to mention go skinny-dipping in the River Styx like he had.

"Ethan," Luke intoned, using his starship captain voice. Damn, he loved that James Tiberius Kirk. "Bring me the DiPSTIC."

Ethan, who was drinking water after their big number, spewed it all out, trying to hold his laughter in. Nevertheless, he handed the EVIL iPad to Luke.

"I really don't think you should call it that, man," he suggested, giving Luke the water bottle as well. It had all of his backwash in it, but hey, what Luke didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Luke gulped the water down so hungrily, Ethan almost felt bad. Almost. When he was done, Luke chucked the water bottle into oblivion, causing some monster to scream.

"Hey," said Luke, settling onto the swivelly chair by the desk. "I can call it whatever the hell I want, man. I discovered this thing."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, but argued no further.

"So, have my people find my sword, and then gather them so we may make our way leisurely to the airport," Luke commanded, moving his hands in a shooing motion. "Oh, and have one of them dress like a taxicab driver."

"Luke... you don't have any 'people'. I'm you're only one."

Although he'd never tell, Luke was secretly jealous of Ethan's ability to raise only one eyebrow at a time. I mean, seriously, Luke was the evil one, and he couldn't raise an eyebrow? He was a disgrace!

He made up for it by raising two eyebrows, then scrunching them both down into his "scary face". Ethan flinched-- he knew what this meant. In Luke's words, it would be, "Just go do it, Nakamura. Just frigging do it."

_Wait, _thought Ethan as he scampered away, _Luke's... or Nike's?_

_

* * *

_**Is it green? Is it purple? I don't know, but it says, "REVIEW!" :)**


	9. Kidnapped?

**A/N: Wow! This is the Beginning of the End, everyone; it's the first of the last few chapters of Percy Jackson's Quest for a Theme Song. Are you sad? Happy? Can't wait to find out what the theme song is? Well, if you can't wait, you won't have to!!!.... Not for very long, anyway. And if you don't want this to end, well guess what?? NEW STORY IDEA! Coming very, very soon. :) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't own. **

* * *

"Nico, Nico! Mr. Di Angelo, over here!"

Nico lowered his shades and smirked alluringly at the cameras, looking good for someone who, upon landing, had made a beeline for the bathroom and thrown his guts up. The next moment it was flash upon flash upon flash, and I swore I was cross-eyed by time Annabeth and I had squeezed through the paparazzi ahead of Nico and G-Man to find us a cab.

Looking pale and weary herself, Annabeth said, "I'm never, ever riding a plane with two Big Three kids ever again."

I nodded. The landing was like Zeus was James Bond and we were the drink-- shaken, not stirred. Well, technically, Zeus would've been the bartender _preparing _the drink for Bond, James Bond and--

"Oh, Annabeth, let's take that cab! The driver has an eyepatch!" I cried, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her towards the cab that had just pulled up. Grover and Nico emerged from the sea of Di Angelo fans just then, and Nico made a dash for the taxi.

"I think it's kind of dangerous to drive with one eye, but he's like a Pirate Taxi Driver!" said Grover as he caught up with us, and helped me propel Annabeth along.

Annabeth slowed down, looking puzzled. She watched the cab driver I'd pointed out to her, and just as Nico grabbed the door, she cried, "NO, NICO!"

Nico turned his head just as he slid into the back, but it was too late. The door slammed shut and the son of Hades was thrown back in his seat as the cab took off at over seventy miles an hour. I ran, making an uber desperate attempt to keep up (well not that desperate; it was easier to keep up with a speeding taxi than Tom Sawyer and Twilight and stuff), but the thing was practically airborne, like freaking Grease Lightning.

The cab kept going as I came to a halt. I put my hands on my knees and caught my breath as Nico jogged up next to me, screaming profanities at the cab driver.

Wait, what?

"... Armani, that bag was ARMANI, you FAGGOT! Holy crap, that bag was worth more than you're entire life savings!!! You're so EFFING lucky that I'm dyslexic, you freaking TELLETUBBY, or I would've gotten your license plate number!!! Do you hear me, pal?!?!? I'm BLEEPING Italian, okay, and we have a BLEEPING GODFATHER!! Ya see, you're gonna be sleeping with the FISHES, AS--"

"Nico?" I ventured, looking at the kid standing next to me. Of course, it was kind of a stupid question. He turned his accent like the people in _the Sopranos_ at the end, so it couldn't have been anyone else.

Pouting, he held out his hands, showing me a lot of scratches and a bruise that would be absolutely nasty tomorrow. "I jumped out the other door," he said, sticking out his leg so I could see how his Baby Guess jeans (he wasn't tall enough to fit into 21 Men yet, he reasoned) had ripped terribly. "I didn't know that roads were so rough like that."

"Mr. di Angelo! Mr. di Angelo, I saw everything. Are you alright?"

A police officer walked briskly over to where we were now standing with Annabeth and Grover. He was dressed in normal police kit, but his hat was pulled a little lower over a head of rather unruly hair and his classic police shades looked a little more than expensive. I would've been suspicious, but I guess he did that to hide that scar he had snaking down one side of his face.

"No, I am not alright! That bag had my documents and my guitar picks and my brand new iPad in it!" Nico told the policeman, and began to give a detailed account of what had happened. The policeman took notes. While this was going on, I lost focus and let my eyes wander. A little later I was startled out of my daydream when I thought I caught a flash of curly brown hair disappear behind a post, as if someone was watching us.

Nico was still giving his report. "... and so that was when the egg muffin and the Indonesian fried rice came into play..."

Eh, the hair was probably nothing. I kept looking places again when I caught sight of another head of hair hanging around behind another post. It looked just like the first head, but had his hair cut shorter and was a few shades darker. Gods, I had got to lay off that white powdery stuff that the Stoll brothers had given me.

".... yes, exactly! Expert Sudoku!"

Oh, come on, Nico, you can get another bag! Let's just please, please go already. I'm sure it had only been a few minutes, but I was bored out of my mind. Even worse, I kept seeing those heads of brown hair coming closer and closer to us. They'd peek out from one post and then hide behind it again, then appear behind a post closer to us. I thought nothing of it at first, maybe just a couple of kids playing, but soon one of the heads stuck his arm out and gave me a thumbs up.

Okay, something was definitely going on here.

"Nico," I whispered.

"... so the unicorn just had to cross the road!" he cried, moving his hands around to emphasize his point to the policeman.

"Hmm, and what became of Tony Stark, sir?" asked the policeman, tapping his notepad with his pen. I stared at it, entranced. It wasn't just _any _pen-- it was one of those pens with the awesome rubber strands of hair that came in all these psychedelic colors! Man, I loved this policeman.

"Oh, he took the LED light and the Mr. Potato Head/ Iron Man model thing-- you know, Tony Starch-- and ran off. I'm not pressing charges, though. Phew, that would be messy."

The policeman nodded. "I see. Well, do you know what I think, Mr. di Angelo?"

"You're going to get me some ice cream?" Nico grinned hopefully.

Shaking his head, the policeman showed Nico his notepad. Nico scrunched up his nose.

"Is that a motorcycle?" Annabeth asked, turning her head sideways as she tried to get a better perspective.

"No, Annabeth, that's a dinosaur," said Grover confidently.

"It looks like a dick," I said, leaning in closer. Squinting didn't help.

"What? What are you-- Oh," said the policeman. He turned the notepad right side up so we could see the detailed rendition of Salvador Dali's _Persistence of Memory _he had sketched.

We "Oh!"ed collectively. The policeman nodded in appreciation... before grabbing Nico around the waist, slinging him over his shoulder and running off like a madman.

"Oh, no, you don't!" someone cried, jumping out from behind a post. It was brown mophead man!

Oh my Jonas.

It's Nick Jonas.

I was flabbergasted, bamboozled and confuzzled beyond explanation. Hiding behind that post was none other than freaking Nick Jonas, who proceeded to attack the policeman/ Luke Castellan with a a big stick.

A strangled cry came from Nico. "Watch it, Jonas, that ass of mine is worth millions!"

"Don't worry, Nico!" cried Joe Jonas, coming from behind another post. He began battering Luke with another stick, who continued using Nico to fend them off. Me, Grover and Annabeth just stood there, watching in shock.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

"Joe, you're hurting the kid!" cried Kevin, joining the brawl. Unfortunately, he didn't have his ninja mask on properly, so it fell to the ground in a heap. As he bent to pick it up, Joe tripped over him and both of them fell over. Now, it was only Nick and Luke circling each other, baring their teeth menacingly.

"Don't you dare hit me with that stick again, Jo-- OW!"

"Hey, di Angelo," said Luke, adjusting Nico on his shoulder. Nico groaned audibly. "Do you see that smoke grenade hanging off my belt?"

"Yeah, why? I'm not gonna explode if for you, you son of a--"

Luke thrust Nico out just then, effectively blocking himself from the wrath of Nick J's large stick.

"Bread bun!" Nico cried. "I was gonna say, 'son of a bread bun'!"

"Do you wanna stop getting hit by the stick, kid, or not?!"

"Okay, okay!" cried Nico, detaching the smoke grenade from Luke's belt.

"Don't pull that pin, Nico di Angelo! We'll get you out of here!" Nick said, still moving around and around Luke.

"Sorry man, but that stick is just made of pain," Nico apologized. Before he pulled the pin, he said, "Hey, guys, you know where to find me, right?"

We nodded, and Nico winked at me just as the grenade exploded, covering the scene in thick smoke. There were sounds of a major brawl. Someone cried, "Ha! I got him!" and soon Nick Jonas was running out of the smoke cloud with someone slung over his shoulder.

Annabeth, Grover and I just gawked some more. In front of us, Nick Jonas had set down Luke.

"Crap," said Nick, appalled. His big brown eyes were as round as pennies. "That's not Nico."

Kevin and Joe managed to make it out of the smoke just then, eyes watering and coughing like crazy. The took in Luke staring at their brother as if he might eat him, and came to halt.

"Oh, boy..."

Luke growled, taking out Backbiter. "Villain monologue time, everyone. You know, here I am, and there's Percy Jackson right there. You'd think that it's an amazing no-brainer who I'd decide to kill. Phew, but oh, it is not, Jonas Brothers, it is not! You three, not to mention that _idiot, _Justin Beiber, have cause me so much grief over the past few days--"

"C'mon, buddy, we want the cure, too," said Nick, moving back towards Kevin and Joe ever so slowly. The Jo Bros were half-bloods? I could only watch as all three of them clutched their sticks like safety blankets.

"Do you really think killing us will stop you from singing our songs?" asked Kevin. By now Nick had drawn up next to them, and they were standing in a line. Luke kept advancing, twirling Backbiter like a baton.

"Yeah... I mean... Our music will live on after our untimely deaths," Joe quipped.

Luke made a roaring sound, just like a lion.

The Jo Bros froze.

All except Frankie.

He leaped out from behind a trolley piled high with boxes and vaulted over the garbage bin, long stick held high and screaming a battle cry that would have put Tarzan to shame. As the brothers gaped open-mouthed, Frankie screamed, "Attack plan Omega! Go, go, go! Run, Percy Jackson, RUN!"

At that, the boys leaped into action. I couldn't see how well they were doing against Luke, though, because I did as I was told and ran right out of there. See, as horribly retarded and discombobulated Nico and I were, we weren't stupid enough not to have a back up plan. (Or, you know, maybe we are stupid enough not to have a back up plan, but we sure had Annabeth.) Because of this sacred back up plan, we knew exactly where Nico had shadow traveled to.

But of course, you're not gonna know until the next chapter. Until then, have a nice life!


	10. Not So Sure What Happens in this Chapter

**Phew! I've received everything from death threats to super nice requests to update this, and now it's finally here! I apologize for the delay, everyone. We're moving again. ): Anyway, enjoy! I have the theme song picked out and everything, and a new fic in the making. Watch out for it as soon as I finish this one: it's gonna be called "More Than Heroes" and it will-- HOPEFULLY-- be just as funny. Haha. **

**xoxo Rhia**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

* * *

"Knowing Nico, he probably went inside," Annabeth groaned as we got out of the cab. I paid and thanked the driver, genuinely grateful that he didn't try to maul/murder/mummify or kidnap us. After, I took in our surroundings. Navigating LA wasn't anywhere near easier the second time. I could sense we were on the right track, though, because the place we and Nico had agreed to meet at just gives off this kind of aura; it's amazing.

"Aw, come on, Annabeth, he probably didn't--" Grover began, but stopped short, seeming to have second thoughts about Annabeth's statement. "Never mind. You're probably right."

"Well, wouldn't you go in if you were left right at its front door?" I asked, leading the way to the rendezvous point. Something in my tummy did an uneasy flip, but I just dismissed it as the readers' feelings rubbing off on me. I know you all can tell that I'm purposely prolonging the mystery of where we're going.

Annabeth scowled. "Yeah, but that's not the point. We're never gonna find him! I mean, Disney World sprawls mi--"

"Oh, great job, Annabeth!"

"Annabeth, you just told them!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Annabeth squeaked. She really did look sorry that she spoiled where we were going, leading to a kind of anticlimactic mystery subplot. Or, you know, whatever. Sorry, guys.

From then, we continued on in silence, save for Annabeth's quiet, sorry sobbing. For the next fifty meters, I debated whether or not to comfort her, not really for her sake, but for mine. Her incessant crying was creeping me out a little.

"Don't cry, sweetie, it wasn't that big of a slip; they would have found out anyway!" Grover said finally, the same time Annabeth said, "Percy, stop crying, you little wimp; they would've found out anyway!"

The three of us turned to each other then, confused. Who in Olympus' name was crying like that? I put my finger to my lips, signaling ninja mode. Annabeth and Grover obliged, and together we crept forward like the elite species of human that we were imitating. Little by little, the crying began to grow louder; first they were sobs.... then I could say they were weeping.... and suddenly we had come to a stop right in front of the alley way where a guy in an East High Wildcats basketball uniform was sitting on the pavement, wailing like a fiend.

Sitting next to him, rubbing his back while he cried, was none other than Nico. I felt sorry for the kid; he looked like he was at such a loss of what to do for the crying man that he might explode. The three of us rushed into the alley to join him and comfort the poor, unfortunate soul.

That was when we realized that the aforementioned poor, unfortunate soul was Corbin Bleu.

"Oh, MAH LORD!" cried Grover, screeching to a halt smack dab in the middle of the area. Annabeth and I tumbled into him, ending up as a crumpled heap of half-blood and satyr in the dirt.

"Hey, guys," said Nico pretty soberly. "I found him."

"But what... How..." Annabeth stammered. "What's wrong with him?"

Corbin raised his head a minute to turn to Annabeth and scream, "I'm right HERE, you know!"

"Oh, no, it's okay, man," Nico hushed, patting the Wildcat's shaking shoulders with renewed gusto. As Corbin reburied his head in his hands to continue bawling, Nico gave Annabeth a fierce look that pretty much said, _Where were you when they were giving out tact, woman?_

Ashamed, Annabeth sat down beside Corbin and rubbed his back too, cooing soft words born of the maternal instinct somewhere deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep

(700 "DEEPS" LATER)

Deep down insider of her. Grover and I positioned ourselves awkwardly around him as well, resisting the uber incredible strong urge to just get the freaking hell out of there. When he'd calmed down a little, Nico asked him if he could explain to us what had happened to him.

"Well, my album tanked," Corbin began, still sniffling and hiccuping like crazy. Feeling at least a little sorry for him, I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to him. "Uh, thanks," he said, but looked at it strangely. Geez, I'm sorry if it's weird to take home the unused tissues from KFC when you're done.

He continued talking. "So yeah, it tanked. I lost some money. A little while after, I became one of the least liked characters in High School Musical, which really stung because I'm also told that people use _Jump In! _Movie posters as toilet paper sometimes. I mean, table napkins would've been okay, but toilet paper? Really?"

A sob escaped from him. Just listening to this poor guy made my heart break; some people are just born losers. Right then and there, I thanked that gods that I was at least the kid who might destroy Olympus and all humanity, and not Corbin Bleu. I was still thanking them when I realized that Corbin had started talking again.

"... came here to look for work. They gave me a job in their little HSM parade thingie. It's not half bad, but I lost everything. I mean, just three days ago it was that some guys came to my house and told me to move out because I wasn't classy enough for New York. It blew."

"No kidding," said Grover under his breath. Annabeth elbowed him hard in the ribs, and he fell over backwards in pain. Corbin watched him forlornly as he moaned.

"Um, Corbin," I chanced. His head turned to me, eyes still puffy and watery. "You have something that kind of belongs to us--"

"The record. I know." Sighing, he shook his head. "I was just telling Nico that I left it my apartment in New York. Someone else owns it now."

_I'm sorry, did you just say, NEW YORK? _"I'm sorry, did you just say New York?"

Corbin wiped his nose, blissfully oblivious to the astonished looks on all our faces. "Yeah, why?"

It was then that the drops of epic, disproportionately huge failure rained down upon us all.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the Underworld_

"Nakamura, you FOOL!"

Ethan looked up from his Facebook page, unperturbed. "I told you that I don't have my license yet, Luke."

Luke turned on him, looking a little like Norman Osborn right after they gassed him with the Green Globulin formula. His features were contorted into a fierce snarl that probably could have caused his face muscles to either tear or atrophy. In aggravation, he picked up the DiPSTIC and would have hurled it across the room had Ethan not ran, jumped and caught it as it spiraled through the air.

After executing a small bow, Ethan replaced the DiPSTIC on the glass coffee table where it once rested. Smoke was practically shooting out of Luke's ears by now. He'd sort of been that way ever since a real police man had broken up his fight with the Jonas Brothers.

"No. You. Didn't," he growled, taking menacing steps toward Ethan. Still indifferent, Ethan yawned and pulled something out of his pocket.

Luke stopped cold and took the folded up piece of paper from him. "What the Hades is this?"

"The waiver I made you sign."

"The... what?" Then it finally dawned on him. "YOU FIEND!"

* * *

_FLASHBACK! (Luke's POV)_

I shrugged my coat on, checking my reflection in the mirror by the door. Perfectly coiffed hair, extremely white smile, stylishly unshaven-- man, I looked so good that I bet even walking dreamboats like Robert Downey, Jr. would come to me for advice.

Not that I think RDJ is a dreamboat, I mean. The empousae just think so. What, you think I'm gay now? You don't believe me? You think I'm lying? Well, if that's the case, I'mma show you motherfu--

"Luke, where are you going?"

Oh, Nakamura. Psh, sometimes I forget that guy is here. He's kind of... sneaky, you know what I mean? I looked over to find him still seated at the computer, just like he had been all day for the past three days. He claims he's checking the Demigodly iPad Supersonic Tracker Intelligence Console, which I so aptly named, but I'm pretty sure that the tracking device could be accessed from the iPad itself.

And, you know, I'm pretty damn sure that the software didn't look exactly like someone's Facebook homepage.

I reined all my hatred and myriad of other emotions in. Managing a sort of cool half-smirk-half-snarl, I said, "Weekly poker jaunt."

It was true, of course-- I may have renounced the gods and stuff, but I still get a kick out of taking other peoples' money, like a real son of Hermes. Rumor had it that Gambit would be there that night, and I just freakin' loved a challenge.  
Nakamura was standing in front of me now, waving his hand in front of my face. I growled at him and he stopped.

"We're you doing an inner monologue again?" he asked me, instantly pissing me off. I hate it when he's right. Can you believe how this asshat manages to present the dumbest theories and conclusions and ends up to be always right?

"Luuuuuuukkeeeeee." He was in my face again, trying to get my attention. This time, he was waving a piece of paper at me.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, okay," he said, satisfied that he got my attention. He handed me a pen. "First of all, only nutcases like Rorschach do inner monologues. Second--"

I slapped him on the upside of the head. "Hey-- do not insult Rorschach like that man. The guy's a freaking genius."

Narrowing his eyes at me, he said, "Dude. He was on the same superhero team as Dr. Manhattan, who walked around totally _starkers_ the whole time. Can you spell 'fail'?"

"Um... F..A... Wait, Tony Stark was in the Watchmen?"

For some reason I did not understand, Nakamura just hung his head. Sighing, he handed me his little piece of paper. "I just wanted your autograph, Luke."

And like the fool I was, I gave it to him.

* * *

_Present time_

"You fiend, you fiend, you fiend, you--!"

Ethan was on his knees now, eyes locked on the DiPSTIC's screen. He was waving his arms around in a desperate attempt to get Luke to shut up. Seeing that this wasn't working, he finally stopped tracking the little red dots' movements for a second to yell, "Luke, Blair DIED!"

Luke fell silent instantly and rushed to the coffee table. His eyes scanned the DiPSTIC before narrowing when he realized that they were following demigods, and not the latest season of Gossip Girl. _Silly Nakamura, _he thought while trying to make sense of the map, _They wouldn't kill Blair. Well, maybe, considering what they did to Chuck..._

"Do you see that, man?" asked Ethan, running up some coordinates in a smaller window next to the map. "It looks like they're headed right back to Manhattan, right now."

Nodding, Luke got up. "Assemble our people, Nakamura. If we're fast, we'll be able to intercept them on their way back to Camp Half Blood."

Thus, Ethan got up and left, resisting the urge to remind the other that he didn't have any other people.


	11. Of All the People

**Hey guys, sorry for the late update. Don't worry, Chapter 12 is coming soon after. As in, I'm already editing it. This one's rather short, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Read and Review!**

**xoxo Rhia**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson.**

* * *

"_When I was thirteen..."_

"Percy..."

"_I had my first love..._"

"Percy."

"ASDFGHJKLVBNMRTYQCV _ABOVE!_"

"Percy, you noob!" Nico growled, slapping me on the upside of the head. He looked both incredulous and annoyed at the same time, which must have been an achievement for him. I'd always thought that, like Tinkerbell, there was only room for one emotion in that tiny body at a time.

A congratulations was at hand, but he barged on, saying, "Everybody knows that the lyrics are-"

"Guys, cut it out," Annabeth chided. She'd been looking out the window dutifully the whole time, pretending not to hear us. "We're here."

So we were. Stepping out of yet another cab, we were met by one of those brownstone buildings that are supposed to be apartments, but are occupied by people who are rich enough to buy all four floors. I couldn't help but think that Corbin should have invested in something else... Something like, you know, acting lessons.

Nico shut the door behind him and the taxi drove away. He was frowning, and I had a hunch why.

We'd only been back in New York for about two hours, but already we could feel that we were running out of time. There was this nagging sensation in the the pit of my stomach, this intense urge to let out all the song inside of me. I guess this would've been okay, except for the fact that I knew that if I started, I'd never, ever stop. From the way Nico was tapping his fingers against each other and the way Annabeth had been biting her lip and Grover had been making beat-box sounds instead of bleats, I knew they all felt it too.

"C'mon, Percy, inner monologues can wait," Annabeth said, albeit sympathetically, as if she wanted to do one too. She stepped right up to the brownstone in front of us and rang the doorbell.

There was a flurry of activity inside before a guy just a little older than us answered the door. He was my height, around 5"7, with messy brown hair and blue eyes that looked kind of incredibly, indescribably familiar. He had this smile... And... Gods, where have I seen this kid before?

"Can I help you?" he asked- and then I knew. It hit me the way Optimus Prime hits Megatron on a very good day. Grover seemed at a loss for words. Annabeth just about fainted. It was only Nico, small, oddly famous little Nico, that still had a voice.

"Logan Lerman!" he cried. "You! You were that kid in that movie about the... the one with the lightning...!"

"Oh, and you might just be Spiderman!" Annabeth chirped before dissolving into intense giggles. "Good luck making you look like a geek, though."

I looked at her, stunned. Logan Lerman grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Yep, that's me! Good ol' Peter Parker and Per- Hey, you're Nico di Angelo!"

"I know right!" Nico said, his voice going impossibly high. "Here, sign my jacket!"

"Your jacket?"

"Yeah. I had an Armani messenger bag, but then the taxi drove away with it."

"Oh, lord, I hate it when that happens," Logan sympathized, giving Nico back his jacket and the permanent marker he seemed to have produced from no where. "So, is this you're... entourage?"

"More like family," I managed to blurt out. Logan raised his eyebrows at me, and I felt this little tickle in my stomach- no, fools, I'm not GAY, I just needed to sing!

Grover must have felt it too, because he said quickly, "We were actually just here to take something that Corbin Bleu left here. He _was _the former tenant of this apartment, right?"

Logan seemed to pale. Every so slowly, we followed his head as it turned to look to the doorstep next to his. "He lived in that one," he said in barely a whisper.

I got shivers down my spine. There did seem to be an aura of... something that hung around the place. It was as if something there just wasn't right.

"Thank you," said an unfazed Annabeth, who smiled at him one last time before turning and walking down his front steps. "C'mon, boys."

We all said our "nice meeting you"s and went to follow her. I would've, but I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and found Logan staring at me intensely. It was flattering, by all means, yet still really creepy.

"Look, kid, I don't even know your name, but you're important," he told me. Well, can't argue there. "It's dangerous in that apartment. If you ever need me... Just holler."

"Thanks," I said, getting more scared by the minute. All though I had full trust in Logan's acting prowess, I had no idea how well equipped he was to handle actual danger. We shook hands, and the next thing I knew I was down his front steps, and he had said, "Live long and prosper", and had closed his front door.

I got to Annabeth's side just as she rang the doorbell. "Odd character, Logan Lerman, isn't he?" I said, but just before she could maim me or anything, the door opened.

The next sound was Nico's jaw hitting the floor. Grover bleated and Annabeth and I gasped; it was just so... unexpected. Well, maybe it wasn't. We seemed to be getting a lot of crap lately, but this... this would totally be the Creme de la Crap.

"Can I help you?" Justin Bieber asked, smiling innocently.

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**DUN DUN DUUUNNNNN! Did I spell Bieber right? Oh and it's not that I hate Justin Bieber. I don't. His songs are sort of halfway catchy. It's just... She's so fun to make fun of! **

**Look out for Chapter 12, the Lair of the Bieb, coming soon. **


	12. The Lair of the Bieb

**Sorry again for the time it took to update. But here it is! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. **

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Justin Bieber invited us inside. He wants to do a duet with my cousin. He thinks Annabeth is Taylor Swift. He thinks _I _am Logan Lerman, and most of all...

He thinks Grover is Michael Cera.

Oh, crap.

"Would you like some tea, Logan?" Justin asked. That was when I realized that he was standing right in front of me, gazing right into my eyes and brandishing a teapot. Before I knew it I'd said yes, and then my cup was full, and he was back in his kitchen, getting us some cookies. I blew out a hard breath, sinking lower into the chair. That was almost too close a call.

"Ugh, he nearly kissed you, Percy," said Nico, examining the contents of his tea cup. He raised an eyebrow at it before dumping it into the potted palm beside him, which I swear wilted a little. "Any of you guys see the record anywhere?"

We all took a minute to look around. There was a giant Canadian flag hanging on one side of the wall, several framed pictures of the Bieb and a few other celebrities, but no "Please, Please Me."

Annabeth clicked her tongue, and in her best southern accent, asked Justin where the bathroom was.

"Uh, down the hall, second door on the left!" he called from the kitchen.

"I'll check there," she whispered. "Wish me luck!"

"I'll take the bedroom," I said, moving towards the stairs. Grover followed suit, leaving Nico panic-stricken all alone in the living room.

"No!" Nico looked on the verge of a breakdown. "Don't leave me here! What am I supposed to tell him?"

Grover grinned almost evilly. "You can ask him about your set list."

"Set list?" His eyes widened so much that I thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. "What set list? No- Don't-!"

We'd already gone down the upstairs hallway, further and further into the lair of the Bieb. As we started opening doors, Grover began to lose some of his bravado, while I didn't have any to begin with.

The first door we checked was a library, filled mostly with copies of Bieber's comic book-biography and a giant iMac. The next room turned out not to be a room at all, but a linen closet. (You do NOT want to know what kind of stuff he kept in there.) Right at the end of the hall was the third and final door, which I opened with shaking hands.

The door swung open without a creak, although it was just as terrifying. My shoes met carpet instead of hardwood floor, and I found myself standing inside the drafty- yet tastefully decorated- bedroom of Justin Bieber.

His bedspread was in red and white, with a giant red maple leaf in the middle. His pillowcases matched the spread, all Canada-like, while the lampshades and most other things in his room were in classic shades of khaki, brown and gold. His curtains were creme. There were pictures of him and his family on the bedside tables, which gave me odd thoughts.

Wasn't this kid still a minor? If so, why was he living in New York, all alone, without his parents?

"It's not here," Grover said forlornly. True enough, Paul, John, Ringgo and George were no where to be found.

"Well..." I groped for something; some small, maybe nonexistent opportunity. "Maybe it's in there!" I said, catching sight of a door that was painted the same bluish-gray as the wall. I crossed the room in a few strides and tried it. Locked.

"Check the drawers while I try to pick it," I suggested, drawing Riptide and putting the pointed end in the lock. Grover muttered something about how they were imported from Indonesia, but I didn't really care because the door swung open.

It was a bathroom.

An occupied bathroom.

Looking at itself in the huge, full _wall _mirror was a rather large being; it was about as big as a horse, actually, but it looked kind of like a greyhound. There was lots of tissue paper on the floor, as if it had been playing with it... Or trying to blow its nose. It was sniffling and breathing heavily through its mouth. As I stood and stared at it, it turned around, focusing its glowing red eyes on me.

"Um, Grover...?"

The animal started growling.

"Oh, great, you opened- What is that?"

"The Bieb's pet dog?"

The animal's shoulder muscles tensed, and it bent low to the ground. The guttural sound it was making was gradually getting louder.

From somewhere else in the house, Annabeth screamed a high, bloodcurdling scream. As if on cue, the animal pounced towards me and Grover.

Grover and I ran out of the room, screaming like little girls. It stayed hot on our trail, bounding off the walls and knocking picture frames and vases off their perches. Bieber's floors desperately needed some waxing. We slid clumsily down the stairs, slamming into the back of his couch, making it fall over. I watched in terror as the animal slid to a stop in front of the two of us. I could feel Grover shaking in his jacket beside me. With the worst roar every imaginable, it jumped again and-

Soared right over us. It trotted loyally over to Justin Bieber's side, head held regally high, though it was still sniffling.

Which brings us to another matter: the Bieb himself.

What I saw by Justin Bieber made me want to scream. In one hand, he held an unconscious Nico by the collar. His other arm was wrapped around Annabeth's waist. She squirmed and pushed away from him, but couldn't seem to break free. There was an evil looking woman behind him with unnaturally thick black hair and a scorpion crown. She'd hiss at Annabeth every once and a while, and it was as if she had to decide between a fate with Justin Bieber and the scorpion lady. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ew, a hard place? That's what she said.

Bieber grinned at me, getting my blood boiling hotter. "This isn't Taylor Swift, is it, Percy Jackson?"

I didn't reply. I was hoping my _kiss-my-ass_ glare said it all.

"And I bet you're looking for this." He waved his hand, and the record magically appeared in it. Like a prize, he brandished it high.

Pointing Riptide at him, I said, "Give it here, Bieber."

"No," he replied like a spoiled little kid. "First, you must tell me: Where is Carter Kane?"

"Say what now?"

"Where. Is. Carter. Kane?"

"...?"

"Or Sadie Kane...? No?"

"Er..." I was genuinely stumped. Even Annabeth stopped being scared and turned to stare at Bieber as if he'd gone crazy. We all just stared at each other for a while until we became aware of a loud sound that just got louder and louder, as if it were getting nearer. After listening some more, I realized that they were actually whoops of joy.

Then the glass doors to Bieber's patio broke open.

"Ha-ha!" Spiderman cried, webbing the Scorpion Lady and the animal simultaneously. He pulled his arms in different directions and sent the two crashing into each other. With insane speed he shot a few web bullets at Bieber and webbed the record away from him. In another quick move, he swept up Annabeth and Nico and swung them away to safety.

No, I'm not crazy. This really did happen. Also, I may not be too smart, but I made the connection quick enough. That wasn't _really _Spiderman.

Bieber looked amazed at all of this. And I thought it was our team that got all of the bullshit.

"Percy, Grover!" Spiderman/Logan Lerman called, from the front door this time. "Come on!"

I grabbed a vase and hurled it at Bieber, just for good measure. He dodged it, still looking shocked, and it smashed against gravel floor of his patio. Grover and I dashed to Spiderman and hugged him like a kid hugs Santa, and before we knew it he'd shot a web to somewhere and was swinging us along.

It almost beat shadow travel.

We landed on a rooftop about five buildings down, where an intensely shocked Annabeth was sitting next to a snoring Nico, clutching the record like a safety blanket. She looked up when we arrived; her eyes were like the lights were on, but there was no one home. I helped her to her feet as she giggled something about Andrew Garfield failing as Spiderman.

"I knew you were important!" Logan cried, taking off his mask. He grinned at us despite his severe case of mask-hair.

"Yeah, thanks, man," I said. He offered me a gloved hand to shake. Sure enough, I felt the web-shooters there, just like Spiderman had in the actual comic. "So, um... You do this all the time?"

He shook his head. "This is the first time I've taken the suit out publicly. I used to practice a lot more at home, but ever since Andrew Garlfield got the role... But hey, it worked pretty well didn't it?"

Grover nodded enthusiastically. "Did it ever!" He continued with an inspired rap:

"_So we were running around in Justin Bieber's crib,_

_And he was actually some monster, not a kid, in a bib,_

_Just when we thought we were doomed in his hands_

_Logan Lerman comes in dressed as Spiderman_

_And-"_

He stopped. Logan looked weirded out, but recovered quickly. Ah, a true actor.

"You got mad skills, Michael Cera," he said, patting Grover on the back. "But hey, I got to go. If you guys need any more help, you know who to call, okay?"

"The Ghost Busters?" I wondered out loud, because really, he never told us who to call.

He slipped a business card into my shirt pocket and patted it. Oh, okay. Not the Ghost Busters then.

Annabeth seemed to have gotten over her state of mind a while ago. She smoothed her hair back and tied it into a neat ponytail. The record was already safe in her backpack. "Can we have one more favor for today, Logan? Or are we all out?"

Logan smiled. "Depends."

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**YAAAYYYYY! YAY! Yay? :O Read and Review and tell me! xoxoxo**

**Rhia**


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